


Fitting Your Own Skin

by AraSigyrn



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Always a different sex, Challenge fic, Cisswap, F/F, Romance, college fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 06:25:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6790006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AraSigyrn/pseuds/AraSigyrn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Francine Nelson is ten years old when she decides that she's going to become a lawyer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fitting Your Own Skin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nerdamongnerds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerdamongnerds/gifts).



Francine Nelson is ten years old when she decides that she's going to become a lawyer. She's sitting in the principal's office, her mom and dad sitting beside her as her homeroom teacher explains how she punched Trevor Casey in the nose. Mrs Tully doesn't say anything about how Trevor is already growing like a weed, towering over the whole damn class. More damningly, Mrs. Tully doesn't say anything about Trevor calling her names and stealing her bag.

Years later, her mom will tell everyone the story of how Francine had argued passionately that Trevor had started it, Trevor had been mean and none of the teachers had done anything about it until Trevor got punched.

She gets a week of detention, instead of the suspension or expulsion she should have gotten. Also, Brett and her other friends share their desserts with her for the rest of term. It's a very enlightening experience.

Francine is small, plump and she doesn't like hurting people. She can't squash a spider without feeling like a bully. In a world of Trevors, Francine can only fight back with words. 

So, nearly a decade later, Francine becomes 'Fatty' (changed to 'Foggy' after her puberty weight mostly settles around her hips and breasts) and she learns a lot about words and how to use them. She's never more than kind of pretty because she never loses the chub but even in high school, the cliques learn fast that Foggy Nelson is nobody's punch-bag and she never says anything that the teachers will get upset about but she sends kids home in tears.

Foggy dates a couple of guys, for a given value of 'dates'; they go the movies, they hang out and they make out sloppily whenever and wherever they could. She doesn't date Brett, because eww, enemies for life. She does steal a bottle of cheap whiskey from her dad's cabinet and sit on the roof when Tamara breaks his heart the day before junior prom. They both get drunk and they never talk about it afterwards.

Foggy likes dating. Foggy likes guys. Well, Foggy thinks she would like guys more if every guy in her age-bracket could think about anything but getting his dick touched. Foggy likes girls but she doesn't think that she likes girls like that until Columbia.

"Hey, you're my roomie!" 

"Hi, I'm..."

"Gorgeous?" 

This is how Foggy finds out that you can't actually die from embarrassment. Hurray! Matt - who has a full name straight out of Victorian gothic novel - laughs which is a relief. Foggy's folks would be sad if she had to live under her bed for the rest of her life. Matt is oddly defensive and it takes Foggy nearly a week to figure out that Matt's waiting for Foggy to ask about the name.

"Dude," Foggy objects when Matt finally asks. "Firstly, we need to work on our communication, okay. Secondly, my name is ' _Foggy_ '. I have no stones to throw here."

Matt stares - well, points her face in Foggy's general direction - and hugs her cane to her chest. It kind of looks like a habitual gesture but the slow smile that spreads across her face makes Foggy feel bubbly and goofy.

(Foggy is suddenly empathizing _so hard_ with the hormonal boys of her youth. Just a hint of smile and Foggy is screwed already.)

Matt tells her about it - talks about her dad, who was a good guy but one of the kind of men who never learned how to express emotion or how to handle a daughter. Foggy keeps her lips tightly sealed on her opinions on that but Matt likes having her nails painted, sniffs her way through Foggy's entire make-up collection and steals the moisturizing shower gel that smells of strawberries from Foggy's shelf.

"I'm not the girliest girl," Foggy warns her. 

"More girly than me," Matt smirks at her from where she's sitting on Foggy's bed. She plays with the bottle of nail polish that she's been holding and looks down. "It's...nobody ever did this for me before."

"Oh, sweetheart," Foggy sighs and she helps Matt learn how to put on the minimal amount of make-up that every female lawyer needs. Matt gravitates to the lush red lipsticks because Foggy's life is hell like that. Foggy spends a lot of time carefully tracing out the curves of Matt's lips in scarlet; so much that she could probably draw them in her sleep. She dreams of Matt's lips, red and soft and wakes up, hot and prickling under her skin.

Foggy's life consists of classes, papers, cheap booze, pyjamas and long giggly evenings where they try to remedy Matt's criminal ignorance of cheesy films. Also, there are hugs. Lots of hugs.

Matt is an incredibly tactile person, which surprises Foggy but she's seriously picky about who she's willing to touch, which really doesn't surprise Foggy. Matt mostly doesn't like strange people touching her and Foggy is totally down with people not wanting to be touched. So Matt ends up kinda using Foggy as a shield.

There are enough jerks in pre-Law who think that a small, cute blind girl is easy meat to make Foggy seriously despair for her future career. It doesn't help that Matt seriously could have been a model, if she'd wanted to be and Foggy hates seeing her tensing up, the way her lips press together and her eyebrows draw down. So Foggy takes full advantage of the fact that she came up through the public school system in Hell's Kitchen and there is nothing these private school brats can say to her that she hasn't heard before.

"Fat bitch," one of the guys in Abnormal Pysch 101 mutters and Matt tenses like she's going to throw a punch.

"And still, I wear this shirt better than you do," Foggy shoots back, feeling a gleeful pulse of malice in her belly as the guy flounders. "Also, really? 'Fat bitch'? Maybe try again when you're ready to graduate to actual insults, mmmkay? Some of us outgrew kindergarten when we were four."

There's a muffled ripple of laughter and the guy goes red, hunching up his shoulders. Foggy turns back to her notes with a sniff that makes Matt smile and lean their shoulders together.

The guy doesn't learn his lesson. On Friday, someone throws a party and Foggy is chatting with Juan from her Punjabi class when the guy bumps into her. He's already drunk, eyes not quite focused and, well, he's a lot bigger when he's looming over Foggy in a small room with too-loud music and no way out.

At first he seems more interested in the beer on the table behind her and Foggy carefully avoids making eye contact. The guy lurches a little, knocking his shoulder against her arm.

"Hey!" Foggy objects and immediately wishes she'd just kept her mouth shut when the guy focuses on her. It takes a second but the guy's face creases into a dirty scowl.

"I know you," he slurs, "fucking fat slut."

Foggy can feel the thump of her heart and she has to hold her cup a little tighter so it doesn't slip. She swallows and the guy leans in. His breath stinks of beer and Cheetos. He barely looks human and Foggy wants to punch him in the face.

"I feel like we've covered this, dude," Foggy says, a little amazed that her voice doesn't shake at all. "I know I'm fat. You know I'm fat. My blind best friend knows that I'm fat. Do you think I somehow didn't notice it?"

The guy sneers at her, slurring something that sounds like 'whore' and Foggy lifts her chin.

"Then there's slut. You know that girls have cracked that code right?"

"Wh't fuckin' code?!" 

"The slut code," Foggy says, riding the high of contempt and adrenalin. "Oh, come on! Every girl knows that when a guy calls a girl a slut, what he means is 'a girl who's smart enough not to sleep with him'. That's like, grade school shit."

"'s not!" The guy waves his hands around in a drunken impression of their oratory prof. Foggy has to bite the inside of her lip hard to keep from laughing hysterically. "Means you'll sleep with anyone, fucking slut."

"Yeah," Foggy drawls. "Unlike you, Mr. Daily Visit to Student Health."

The guy goes _purple_ and sways forward. Foggy swallows hard, bracing for this to go horribly wrong.

"Look," she says. "You could be a cool guy."

The guy blinks.

"I mean, I don't really know you and right now, I think you're a jerk because you called me names. Which! Not the best start! But I'm not kidding here, if your response to every setback is to break out the fucking high school shit, you're going to be treated like a high schooler for your whole life."

The guy stares at her, belches and lists sideways until he hits the couch. Foggy steps carefully to the side, getting herself just a little closer to the door. The guy blinks fuzzily at her and then he starts to snore.

Foggy stares at him and feels a giggle bubbling up the back of her throat. She's still a little jittery from the 'fight or flight' response and her beer, when she takes a sip, is unpleasantly warm. Foggy pulls a face and turns back to the drinks table. She picks up one of the bottled beers and looks around for a opener.

"Allow me," a seriously hot blond guy suddenly appears beside her.

"Jesus!" Foggy nearly drops her beer. 

"Sorry," Hot Blond Guy smiles at her. "I couldn't help up overhear your little confrontation. I'd offer to buy you a drink, but our hosts have handled that." 

"Uh, hi," Foggy says. "I feel like we skipped a step here. Foggy Nelson."

Hot Blond Guy shakes her hand. "Marcus Stahl. We have Geo-politics together."

"Oh," Foggy looks Marcus up and down. "Wow, I must have been seriously caffeine deprived if I managed to miss the best looking guy in class."

"Why, Ms Nelson," Marcus purrs, popping the top of her beer bottle off and handing it to her in a move that really should not have been as smooth as it was. Foggy smiles back at him, feeling a giddy little thrill in her belly.

Marcus turns out to be great for Foggy's ego (and libido). He's a shark, pure Great White but he's charming, smart and really, really good in bed. He takes Foggy out to nice restaurants, brings her candy from the good shops and he's an awesome debate partner. He's got a detailed career plan and kick-ass grades. Marcus Stahl is going to be a great lawyer someday.

In short, Marcus is exactly the sort of guy that Foggy's parents would love her to bring home. 

There's just one problem. He's not Matt. 

Matt doesn't like Marcus. She won't admit it even when she's drunk, but Foggy knows her better than anyone else. She holds her cane a little tighter when Marcus is around, her smiles become these thin little smirks whenever Foggy mentions Marcus and she holds on tighter when Foggy's guiding her across campus.

They stay roomies which means that Foggy gets to wake up to a deliciously rumpled Matt Murdock. They still do movie nights and Matt will settle in against Foggy's shoulder and tuck her head under Foggy's chin. Foggy can't even make a joke of it because Matt gets this soft, wistful smile that just turns Foggy's heart to mush.

Foggy spends two semesters living chin-deep in denial before she throws in the towel. She breaks up with Marcus who isn't a jerk about it.

"You're still going to be a kick-ass lawyer, Foggy-Bear," he says. "Friends? With optional benefits while we're both single?"

Foggy laughs, maybe tears up just a little and they have a night of really, really epic sex. It's the least traumatic breakup that Foggy's ever had and she gets back to the dorm room with two boxes of chocolates that Marcus had gotten for her.

"Foggy?" Matt looks up from her desk. 

"Greetings, Matty my friend," Foggy is still a little numb and she's loopy on less than two hours of actual sleep.

"Did you sleep at all?" Matt complains even as she gets up to catch Foggy's shoulder and guide her down to her bed. "At least you showered."

"Of course I showered," Foggy says, pulling Matt down so they're sitting on the bed. She might also be tipping slowly closer. "Male college students never use their showers. I had to take advantage of the opportunity one last time."

Matt goes still. "Last time? Is Marcus going to be sleeping over here from now on?"

"What?" Foggy pushes herself upright. "No, no, no! No gentleman callers in the dorm room."

It was one of the first things that they'd agreed on - Matt needed a place where she didn't have to worry about people leaving stuff on the floor or moving her things. Foggy catches Matt's hand and squeezes. "I wouldn't do that!"

"Well, I guess Marcus isn't a gentleman," Matt jokes but she's relaxing, leaning into Foggy.

"He can be, when he wants to," Foggy says, in the interests of fairness. "He's just not my gentleman anymore."

Matt swings her head around to do that not-staring thing and her hand closes around the curve of Foggy's shoulder, tight enough that it kind of hurts. Foggy's just tired enough that she doesn't care because Matt is right there and Foggy can smell her strawberry shower gel. It's childish and pathetic but Foggy's just broken up with her boyfriend, she's allowed to wallow a little.

"You broke up?" Matt asks and Foggy nods. Matt hugs her. "Want me to break his nose?"

"That would just be mean," Foggy giggles a little. "First he gets dumped, then he gets thumped."

"You broke up with him?" Matt asks, oddly cautious and with her head tilted like she's listening really carefully.

"Yeah," Foggy shrugs. "It's not like it was an epic love story or anything. We wanted different things."

Matt hugs her again and Foggy just sinks into the embrace. Matt is lean and muscley but she gives really great hugs and Foggy hums happily, tucking her face into the crook of Matt's neck. Matt freezes and Foggy nearly chokes on a surge of embarrassment and fear. She tries to scootch backwards but Matt's arms just tighten around her.

"Foggy?" Matt says. "I-can I just-? I mean, the timing's shit and-"

"Did you just swear?" Foggy says into Matt's shoulder. Somehow Matt's t-shirt's gotten twisted and there's a small patch of bare skin just where Foggy can feel it under her lips. Matt shivers.

"I swear sometimes," Matt sounds a little breathless. "And this is way too fast, okay? I know that but I-I- please?"

Foggy lifts her head reluctantly but Matt's breathing a lot faster all of a sudden and Foggy's brain is still slow and heavy with sleep but Matt is practically vibrating with nervous energy. She's not actually following the conversation but there's only one answer when Matt is looking like a puppy left out in the rain.

"Sure, Matty," she says. "Anything you need."

Matt lets out a little laugh that sounds like a sob and then she leans in and oh. _Oh._

Matt's lips are just as soft as Foggy thought they were and she tastes of coffee and sugar. She kisses like she's dying for it, clumsy and hungry and Foggy winces a little when their teeth clack together. Matt pulls back just for a second then kisses her again, more in control this time and Foggy just about melts into it.

They have to break apart in the end, panting and flushed and Matt runs her hand up Foggy's neck to thumb gently at the corner of her mouth, smiling like she's lit up from the inside with it.

"So, wow," Foggy says. "That happened."

"I know it's way too soon," Matt says, her smile ruining her serious tone. "But I just wanted you to know, when you're ready- _if_ you're ready...I want you to know this is an option."

"This," Foggy teases, copying Matt's handwavy gesture and smiling so wide that her face hurts. "Well, with an argument like that, I think your case is compelling, Ms Murdock."

"Dork," Matt says fondly. "Can I kiss you again?"

"Yes, please." Foggy leans in to taste Matt's laughter and thinks that she could be happy right here for the rest of her life.


End file.
